


open hand or closed fist

by liketogetlost



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketogetlost/pseuds/liketogetlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth craves physical touch.</p><p>(Or *groan it's second person pov weird stream of consciousness fic*. I just have a lot of feelings.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	open hand or closed fist

 

 

 

Sometimes you think you remember your mother kissing your forehead goodbye.

You were too young to carry a memory like that for so long, so you know it's something from your dreams.

What you do remember, _can't ever forget sometimes it makes you flinch in the middle of the night fall out of sleep into a panic_ , is your father slapping your head. 

That constant fear, _living on edge nerves like crushed paper inside a fist expecting that first hit,_ you carry that with you to this day.

 

You carried around a stuffed bear until you were an age you'll never admit to, Clint the teddy wrapped in your arms keeping you warm and safe. 

When you hug Richie, cup the back of his neck or grab his shoulder, you feel him stiffen because he's not like you. Doesn't need that reassurance, that physical contact that means there's someone else there with you, you're not alone.

 

You fuck like you're hungry. You don't need there to be love in the middle of it all you just need the touch,  _the taste the feel the distraction feels like a gift,_ you're not alone you're not alone **you're not alone.**

 

Your hands shake sometimes, your body buzzing, skin screaming. In prison the only embrace was the one of a fist, more blood more pain, might as fucking well you deserved it.

 

You're sick, you know it, something inside your chest bursting trying to rip itself out of you. Time ticking by, you're never fast enough and you're always _hungry._

 

 

 

Driving, one hand on the wheel one on the seat between you and the girl. She might as well be on the moon, she's so out of reach and off limits.  _So damn pure and perfect and Holy, you would only dirty her skin ruin her, corrupt her._

 

She's so kind, should punish you for your sins but forgives, and when she reaches out for you it's like a white light.

Fingers wind through yours like a statement, like an agreement. Body pressing on yours,  _stable and sure and such warm comfort,_ strong palm cupping your jaw grounding you in the moment.

 

 

When you kiss her and she opens, accepting welcoming, you taste salt slipping down your cheeks. 

 

Clothes gone, bare, you worship at her over and over,  _slipping sweaty palms over sweaty skin and it's like paradise like Heaven like going to church you listen to her sing out praises to God,_ whispering confessions into her neck.

 

 

 

You reach out, but she's already there. 

 

\--

 

He's the dark to your light, he's in need. Always all you wanted was to help, be needed, but  _God will save us God will take care of us leave it up to Him,_ no one ever needed you.

 

You don't give up and you don't turn away, and you do love, _love him like the way an angel loves a sinner_ , the way you can see the gray in everything now.

 

You touch and touch and touch until you both practically bleed, clawing and feeding, bellies always empty always hungry,  _gripping each other tight through sleep so you don't fall._


End file.
